


carnations

by uris



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-04
Updated: 2016-05-04
Packaged: 2018-06-06 06:59:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 677
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6744148
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/uris/pseuds/uris
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>makki's dead.</p>
            </blockquote>





	carnations

The smooth stone stood quietly, just as it had done for the past two years. The dirt in front was old and dried, worn down by the unrelenting sun, sprigs of grass beginning to grow over the bare patch. Three forms stood in front of its polished surface, one closer to it than the other two. Matsukawa stood firm, the collar of the black button-up shirt he wore rubbing uncomfortably at his pale neck, although he barely the sensation. The sky was a pale and cloudless blue, the trees around then and overheard shivering in the wind, rustling and swaying, age-old trunks creaking in protest. The two others were shifting, talking in hushed voices to each other so that Matsukawa couldn't hear them. Everything was moving, but in the center of that movement, a broken boy and a tombstone of rock remained still, more lifeless than even the bodies that lay deep down under the ground. The bouquet of startling crimson carnations in his shaking hands waves, petals fluttering in an attempt to be free of their emerald stems. Matsukawa forced a smile to crease his motionless features, opening his mouth, then closing it, before opening it again. He reminded himself of a fish gasping for oxygen, searching so desperately for the source of their life, but unable to find it. "You know Makki, it's kind of hard for us to have a conversation properly if I'm the one one talking."  
Mattsun rushed on in fear of the silence that would once again consume him. "You've gotten quieter over the years, I can barely even remember exactly how you sounded, you know. Remember when we used to just tell jokes and prank around in high school? Those were the days, yeah? Iwaizumi just slamming a volleyball at Oikawa when he fucks up - those were the nicer days, really." A pause, a moment of hesitation before more words, weaker. "It's been really quiet without you."  
He could hear the sniffling of his friends in the background, Hajime trying to hold them back as best he could, Tooru sobbing and weeping, letting it all spill out. Issei crouched down, rocking back on his heels, setting the bright carnations down in front of that black rock. The black rock that couldn't do anything to memorialize his friend, that couldn't initiate any memory of who Hanamaki was, that couldn't speak nor comfort, that simply stood and did nothing. Mattsun allowed his hand to brush again the dusty dirt of the Earth. "You really should say something Ma-" A gasp, a breaking voice. "-kki. I don't know if I can do this without you." Iwaizumi dragged the hysterical Oikawa away, leaving only Mattsun left. Tears then, the salty water falling from his eyes and plopping down onto the brown soil. More tremors. "It's been to-o quiet w-without you." Screaming then, the kind of scream that makes the throat go red and hoarse, the scream that won't stop until the voice is all gone. " _Please Takahiro! You PROMISED that if either of us were to die, the other would drag us back and beat us into living! You PROMISED ME THAT TAKAHIRO!_ " His wails increased, words becoming unrecognizable as he shattered for what seemed like the millionth time, calloused fingers gripping the sides of his best friend's grave until the skin was sure to break and bleed, screams growing in anguish, tears having broken through the reservoir, littering the dirt of the grave like a thunderstorm. A flash of the memory, of the blinding pair of lights and the squealing brakes and the scarlet river and the cry for help. Now the trees swayed, the carnations trembled, the grass twitched, the dirt rippled, and Mattsun heaved and screamed and cried because there was no _tomorrow_. Tomorrow had ended two years ago when the world had taken the only thing that had ever mattered to him and had left him with nothing but this. As the world crumbled and fell apart, caught up in motion, the stone stood, unwilling to move even an inch.


End file.
